


milk & honey

by xivmmiv



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Fluff I guess, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Jealous Oikawa Tooru, Slowburn (kinda), Soft Oikawa Tooru, Timeskip, oikawa speaks spanish at some point, reader plays piano i guess, soft, they're both stupid, this is the first fic i've ever written, timeskip oikawa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29588490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xivmmiv/pseuds/xivmmiv
Summary: Everything in your life has been consistent, even Tooru Oikawa: your friendship, your feelings for him, and how you've always kept them hidden. Tooru thinks that besides volleyball, you're the only constant in his life: your friendship, his feelings for you, and how he's always kept them hidden. Things slowly start to change in consistency at some point, like how mold slowly starts to form on milkbread, and how milk slowly spoils into rotten cheese.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	1. tired feet

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my first fic lol please be nice i hope whoever reads this likes it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N's not interested in meeting anyone, and their feet hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry shrimp boy :)

“Why aren’t you dancing with the others? You’re starting to look like a creep just standing in a corner.”

“Don't you ever feel like you’re missing out? I mean, you’re here playing for all those lovers out on the floor. You could meet someone out there, you know?”

A glass of wine is set out on a tiny stool beside the grand piano situated at the corner of the ballroom, to which you direct a pointed look.

“It won’t stain if I don’t spill it,” He winks. “Come on. You’re really just gonna sit there for this whole thing?”

“I like playing, and I’m not interested in meeting anyone.”

“Doesn’t it get boring? Lonely?”

You hum, looking up at your best friend who came home for a visit, “I’m used to it.”

Tooru just looks at you, eyes observant, and you look back observing him as well. There, the both of you sat, well him leaning on the grand piano mostly, staring each other down as soft classical music plays throughout the hall. You're currently on a short break after playing the first half of the set for the party.

“Get out there and dance. I know you want to.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, a corner of his lip slightly turned up. He picks up the wine glass you glared at just a few moments ago and takes a small sip, “Maybe not tonight.”

* * *

/hey. can i come over?/

You stop playing a piece when you get the message, glaring at the letters coming from your phone

//why are you asking now? you always walk in uninvited// 

/felt like it/

With a sigh, you move to the couch. You lay down and roll your eyes at his reply, visualizing the boy behind the other screen shrugging nonchalantly.

/be there in five <3/

//door’s unlocked//

You let the hand holding your phone fall to the floor, your other arm coming up to cover your eyes to shield them from the bright glare of the afternoon sun. You were just about to fall asleep when you heard the door to the house open. Getting up just enough to peek at the door from the backrest of the couch, you glare and, in acknowledgement, groan at the boy who was already locking the door, holding two bags of what’s most likely junk food from the convenience store nearby, bright as ever.

“God, it’s been so long since the last time I was here,” he beams, setting down the two bags by your feet and inviting himself to plop down right beside you. His arms immediately reach out to your head to fix a strand of hair that strayed away from your previous position. “You should really get into the habit of locking your doors. I know it wasn’t locked even before I sent you the message.” You poke your tongue out at him.

“It’s only been three days.”

He makes a sound that resembles that of a confused puppy, “still way too long. I prefer this place over my shitty apartment.”

“Your ‘shitty apartment’ is worth more than three times this dump,” you reach down to check what he brought over, taking a pack of strawberry gummies and rummaging in the other bag for a drink. “What the hell are you talking about?” It comes out muffled as you’re hunched over. Tooru can hear your furrowed eyebrows from where he was sitting.

“It’s not even that expensive. Besides, even a billion dollar apartment isn’t that much of a home without family in it.”  _ without you in it _ , he thinks. He keeps it to himself.

“You’re telling me  _ this _ is a home? I’m the only one living here.” You finally get up, settling for a bottle of water, you’ll eat more of that junk later.

“You’re telling me we’re not family?” He exaggerates, making the thought sound distasteful. You just shrug, leaning your back on the side rest of the couch and stretching your legs out, the tips of your toes touching his thigh. He looks at you, a familiar glint in his eye. You raise an eyebrow at him, the hand holding the gummies held out in front of you. “Want some?” He rolls his eyes and chuckles, the arm resting on the back of the couch falling to grab a handful of the gummies.  _ Anywhere with you is home _ .

The both of you continue to talk about life, just catching up. He talks about the new friends he made in Argentina, teammates that reminded him of the ones he had in high school, practices, games, parties, the women and men he met at those parties. You talk about your own friends, people you’ve played with (specifically this one girl who plays the cello who you shared so much chemistry with you just had to ask to be her friend after your first practice together), shitty professors, recitals, your part-time job. You get to asking him about that one time he met Hinata in Brazil.

“Oh Shoyo’s really good now. Grew a few inches since the last time we saw him. We played a game and he promised he’ll beat me the next time.” He throws his head back and lets out an amused laugh, “as if.” He raises his can of coke and finishes what’s left of it. “Want me to hook you guys up?”

“What? No!” You kick his thigh. “He’s not my type.”

“So you have a type,” he tilts his head to look at you through his bangs. He needs to cut them, but he looks good with his hair. He could probably tie it up in a little sprout already.

“Huh?”

“You have a type, which means you’re interested. That’s not what you said in that party you worked at.”

You mirror his tilted head, leaning on the back rest of the couch. You pull your knees closer to hug them to your chest, looking straight through his bangs and at his eyes. “I’m not exactly following.”

“That weekend, at that fancy party you were invited to play, and I begged you to take me as your plus one and you said you won’t because musicians ‘never have plus ones’. That cellist's date was kind of cute, by the way.”

“Get to the point.”

“I asked you why you won’t dance, that you could meet someone out there and you said you’re not interested in meeting anyone?”

You raise an eyebrow, a slight pout starting to slowly form out of confusion, and it takes every inch of his body not to look down.

“Saying Shoyo’s not your type means you have a type, which means you’re interested in meeting someone.” He says this as if he finally found a conclusion to his hypothesis.

“That’s kind of complicated. I just have a type, I’m really not that interested in meeting anybody at all.” You look down at your hands, fingers starting to play with each other.  _ Because I already have someone I’m interested in _ . “It kinda seems like  _ you’re _ interested, though. Interested in  _ him _ , specifically.” You look up again at him, a slight glint in your eyes, your tone teasing.

“What?”

“Since when did you start calling shrimp boy by his first name?”

“Wh-? We bonded in Brazil! Obviously I’ll feel close enough to him to call him by his first name,” He looks away from your stare, arm falling to his lap as he starts to play with the end of his shorts.

“Really, now." You stare at him a bit more. "You look flustered.”

“You sound jealous,” you gasp, sitting up straight and giving a reprimanding kick to where his ass would be. He laughs and stands up, refusing to look at you and risking showing you the blush that’s forming on his face. You lie down, an arm coming up to your face to cover the blush that’s starting to form on your face as well. You hear the bathroom door open and close. You sigh, “Idiot.”

Just as your face has just finished cooling down, the bathroom door opens and closes again. “Move.” Tooru looks at your covered face from the other end of the couch, where your feet were resting. “No.”

“This is my seat.”

“It’s my couch.”

“Can I please sit down?” You move your arm to look at him, taking notice of his wet bangs.

“Washed your face?” You lift your upper body to lean on both elbows.

“Yeah. Felt hot.”

“Was it because of shrimp boy?” He groans and you laugh. “Let me sit down.”

“My feet are tired. They hurt and I don’t want to move them.”

“My  _ ass _ is tired.”

You lie back down, staring at the ceiling. “Look for another seat then," you close your eyes, "or make one.” He huffs. “Fine.”

There was a moment of silence after the sound of footsteps fade in the background. The sound of drawers opening and closing confuses you, but it’s Tooru Oikawa, the things he does will consistently confuse you. He’s probably looking for a seat, or about to make one.

“Tooru!” You shriek, feeling cold hands grabbing your ankles and yanking them away from their rightful place. You feel your legs being held out in the air as the other end of the couch sinks with a weight, and they’re quickly back to being stretched out like before, except this time it’s on a warm lap. You strain your neck to watch him open the essential oil he most probably took from one of your drawers, pour a generous amount on his hands and spread it on his palms, and start to massage the soles of your feet. You sigh and close your eyes again, laying back down.

“Don’t go snooping around my place, you idiot. How’d you know where I kept that?” 

“Took note of it when I had you do my shoulders when I went home after that one match.” You hum.

“That was three years ago.”

“Yeah, glad how it’s still in its place.”  _ Just like how you are _ .

“It’s always been,”  _ Just like how you are _ .

You sigh as he starts making his way up your calves. “That feels nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

The both of you remain in silence, the sound of your relaxed breathing and Tooru's focused huffs occupying the room. 

“Why do your feet hurt anyway? It’s not like your part time has you standing for hours.”

“My cousins passed by the town yesterday. They wanted a tour.”

“And you walked?”

“Yeah,” you reply in a small whisper, his hands relieving the stress from your lower body. “Small town tours are always better when it’s by foot.”

“It sure is,” he continues applying pressure to your legs, then back to your feet, getting lost in the memory of that one time the both of you randomly decided to take a bus to a neighboring town and walked around for a whole day.

_ “Won’t we get lost? We don’t know this place.” _

_ “Come on, Tooru. Trust me and my sense of direction. Besides, if we get lost we could just ask a resident for directions.” _

_ “What if we get lost and we ask someone and they give us the wrong directions on purpose so they could murder us and chop us up and eat us?” _

_ You raise an eyebrow at how specific he's being. “That won’t happen. We won’t venture to the dark and dangerous places, we’ll stay at the center. See? A lot of people are here. Nothing bad will happen.” _

He smiles, looking at you again to see your resting figure. He watches the slow rise and fall of your chest as he starts to rub your ankles.

_ “Okay. We’re lost, and my feet kinda hurt.” You finally admit after thirty minutes of trying to find your way back, sitting down on a curb to rest your legs. _

_ “Trust me and my sense of direction,” he mocks you. _

_ “Shut up,” you get up and hop around, trying to ignore the slight throb in your feet. “Let’s go ask for directions.” You start walking to look for a convenience store when a hand grabbing your wrist stops you. You look back at him, a questioning look on your face when he wordlessly walks and crouches in front of you. _

_ “Get on.” _

_ “That’s embarrassing," You stand and put both of your hands on your hips, staring at the back being presented to you, "but if you say so.” You wrap both arms around his neck, your legs locking yourself in place as he hooks his arms under them to hold you so you won’t fall. He gets up from his position and jumps to secure you. He starts walking to the closest convenience store you can find. _

_ You hum in contentment, your chin resting on top of his head as the both of you look for a convenience store. “This feels nice.” _

_ “Sure it does.” _

“Tooru,” he hums in response, looking at you while he continues to give you a massage. “Want me to play?” You lean on both elbows again as you tilt your head towards the electronic keyboard positioned at the wall just beside the couch. Tooru’s watched you play the piano since the moment you started, and oftentimes he would ask to watch you play, to which you would always oblige.

“Always.”

  
  



	2. first piece, first dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N cries multiple times and they have a sleepover.
> 
> Also: Oikawa's a major softie who likes teasing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is longer than the first chapter. also idk anything about how the olympics chooses or contacts athletes to play so pls bear w me. ily

After about a week of absolutely zero contact, Tooru’s back in your house, his back leaned against the actual couch while he clips his toenails on your floor.

“You better clean that shit up right after. I don’t want to see your nasty toenails lying around in my house.”

“I always vacuum after clipping my toenails,” he rolls his eyes at your remark about them, “and I literally clean them everyday. They’re not nasty.”

“They’re still part of your feet. Feet are nasty.”

Your eyes focus on the movie that’s currently playing on the TV. They move from one character to another, while your fingers unconsciously play with your bottom lip. Your eyebrows furrow as you try to put two and two together.

“Are they gay?”

“What?”

“Them. Are they gay?” You motion to the two animated characters on the screen. Tooru had come over uninvited again and decided to go on Netflix and play a random Studio Ghibli film. He looks at the television and laughs.

“I’m not spoiling the movie for you.”

“Come on. They seem gay.”

“I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

The both of you continue to watch in silence. The sound of scripted conversations and clipped toenails echo throughout the room. You’re so focused on the movie that you don’t notice Tooru’s finally finished with his nails until you hear the mini vacuum turn on. You look down at what he’s doing.

“When did you finish? I didn’t even hear you get up to get that thing.”

“You were so immersed. You wouldn’t have noticed if a murderer had come in to get me.”

“Why do you always talk about murderers? You’ve been at it since high school.” He just shrugs. He finally finishes vacuuming and gets up to clean out the bag and put it back in the closet. He walks to the couch and sits close to you, even though you’ve squished yourself at the far end of it. He stretches his legs in front of the couch and nudges you with his shoulder, prompting you to look down.

“Don’t you think they look fresh?”

“They’re still feet, but they look a little less gross.” He pouts and moves even closer to you, completely invading your space. “Get away from me.”

“Don’t I get a reward for keeping my feet nice and tidy?”

“You did that in my house, which is already gross in itself. Stop talking about your feet. I wanna watch this movie.” 

He looks and the scene currently playing on the television makes him smirk.

“Can I at least use your lap?” You turn to look at him from your upright fetal position. He thinks it makes you look like a goblin. You stare at him and he smiles brightly at you. You sigh and put your feet down. He lets out a small cheer and moves to lie down, situating his head on top of your lap, your hand immediately falling down to play with his hair while the other supports your head with your elbow leaning on the armrest.

“Oh shit,” it comes out faint and Tooru looks up to see your other hand playing with your lips, your nails about to peel off the dry skin. He quickly reaches up and grabs your wrist to stop you from doing so.

“You still do that?”

“Force of habit. Sorry. Anyways, is Marnie her mom?”

“I told you. No spoilers.”

“So she is.”

“Just keep watching.”

Your slouched position from when the movie started finally straightens up with the new revelations it’s presenting to you. Tooru’s lying on his side watching the movie with you as you play with his hair.

“Marnie’s daughter is such a bitch, but I kind of understand the resentment, but Marnie was literally going through something. She’s an adult, she should have tried to understand her mom.” Tooru just hums.

He unconsciously stops breathing when the hand playing with his hair slowly starts to falter. He tries to turn his head but the same hand keeps it in place.

“Are you crying?”

“No.”

“Let me see.” This time he tries to sit up, but you use both your hands to keep his head on your lap. You don’t give him a response and he laughs.

“I can’t believe you thought they were gay.”

“They seemed like it!” Your voice was thick from trying to hold in your tears, and Tooru can hear how clogged your nose is.

“Come on, I’ll get you some tissues.” You finally let go of his head and pull your knees close to your chest when he sits up. You fold your arms over your knees and hide your face, your eyes peeking just a bit so you could still finish the movie. Tooru laughs again and stands up to go to the kitchen. He comes back with a box of tissues and a glass of water. “Here.”

“Thanks,” it comes out as a whisper. The credits finally start rolling and you just stare blankly at the names that come and go.

“You good?” He’s sitting criss cross beside you now, facing you with both arms reached out to rest his palms on the space behind him.

“No.” You sniffle and finally lift your face from your arms, hunching over to snatch a couple tissues from the box to wipe your face. “I can’t believe that was her _grandma_ .” You reach for the glass of water on top of the coffee table and drink from it. “ _I love you more than any girl I’ve ever known_.” You start bawling your eyes out again. “Seriously, what the fuck?”

“I know. I thought they were gay at first, too.” He moves closer to you and gets on his knees to hug you to his chest and just lets you marinate in your emotions for a while. He taps the side of your head when you stop rubbing your eyes and start to only let out a couple sniffles every now and then. The both of you are quiet and you just sit in the comfort of his embrace when he leans down and puts his lips close to your ear and whispers, “ _I love you more than any girl I’ve ever known_.” Your ears turn red and you try to push him away. He lets out a loud, boisterous laugh and hugs you even closer, keeping you still in his arms.

“Fuck you. Seriously.” You had started crying again. “Now your shirt is wet, dumbass.” He grabs a couple more tissues and hands them to you and you take them. You try to make your face look a little decent before softly pushing him away. “I’m gonna go wash my face,” your eyes catch a glimpse of the dark night sky outside the window and you fish your phone out of your pocket. “And maybe take a shower too.” Tooru nods and leans back on the couch, staring at you and making you conscious. “Stop looking at me.”

“Your eyes are swollen.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Ma-”

“Don’t say her name. Her name is banned in this household. It’s all your fault.” He just laughs and you turn your back to go inside your room.You look for a towel and some clothes to bring with you to the shower, and spot an old shirt and sweatpants that used to belong to Tooru in the closet. You walk back outside and head to the couch where he was laying down.

  
  


“Wanna sleep over? I figured you might need a change of clothes considering,” you gesture at the wet patch on his chest, “and I found some of your clothes in the closet. I was just going to let you change but it’s literally midnight and I don’t want to make you head out this late at night.”

“Just say you want me to stay for a little longer.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, dumbhead.” He feels his ears start to heat up. “Anyway, you can take that shirt off. I’ll just give you a bath towel to cover up so you don’t get the clean shirt dirty.” He mumbles an okay and you leave to go back into your room, the both of you doing exactly as you had just said.

“Here’s a face towel. Get it wet with warm water so you can wipe off,” you motion to his chest again, “whatever I got on there.”

“Thanks, auntie. You’re so kind.”

“Fuck off.”

You go to take a shower and call for him when it’s his turn. You’re about to throw your clothes and his shirt in the wash when you remember he doesn’t have any extra underwear with him. You walk back to the bathroom and knock on the door.

“Occupied!”

“Like I wouldn’t know. Give me your used clothes, I’m doing the laundry.”

The door opens and he hands you the pair of shorts he was wearing a while ago. “Where’s your underwear?” He peeks from the crack and narrows his eyes at you. 

“What do you plan on doing with my underwear?”

“I plan on washing them so you have a fresh pair to wear in your sleep, sir.”

“I don’t wear underwear to sleep.” You make a face.

“Well, I need you to.” The door opens a bit wider and he leans his arm against the door frame.

“Why? They’re my clothes anyway, and it’s not like we’re sleeping on the same bed.”

“It’s been three years. Those are my clothes now. I don’t want you getting _my_ sweatpants all messy. Plus, you’re really gonna let dirty underwear sit overnight?”

“You’re acting like they weren’t mine and I never messed them up before I let you borrow them in the first place.” He completely ignores your last question.

“Tooru!” He laughs.

“I’m kidding. I made sure I handed you the clean pair.”

“Hand me your underwear.”

“Geez, that desperate?”

“If you don’t give it to me now you won’t have anything to wear later.”

“Fine,” he moves away from the door, leaving it as it is, and you hear rushed movements from the other side of the door. His face pops out from the crack again and he smiles, “Here.” You stare down at what he’s placed on top of the shorts that were resting in your hands: neatly folded boxers. “What? I still have the decency to at least make it look presentable.”

You roll your eyes, “if ever you finish before I’m done with your underwear, just use the towel instead of the sweats.”

“You don’t want me rubbing all over your sweats but you’re fine if I do it on the towel? You use this on your whole body and hair.”

“Consider it a gift from me to you. That towel’s yours now.”

* * *

“I’m leaving again.”

It’s two in the morning and the both of you are in bed. Tooru’s using the extra mattress on the floor. You both got it from the supply closet after he finished changing. You were lying down with your chest pressed against the bed, knees folded as your legs swayed in the air behind you. Tooru was lying on his floor mattress, his left knee raised as he used it as a stand for his other leg. The both of you were facing each other and it felt like the both of you were in middle school again, except this time without Hajime.

“Really? When? And where?” You fold your arms over the bed and lay your face over them, looking at the mirror where you can see both of your feet swaying in the air.

“Back to Argentina. In two weeks. Have to train for the Olympics.”

At that you get up, both elbows now supporting you from the bed, your eyes focused on him. “Are you serious? When did they tell you? Why didn’t you tell me? Hey,” he turns to look at you. “That’s huge! You might play against Japan!”

“I found out just over a week ago. They made sure to tell me right before my vacation ended so I can make the most of it.”

“Is that why you didn’t text for a week?” You tilt your head and he gets up, supporting himself on his elbows as well. He was about to explain but you shook it off, your hand dashing in the air as if you were swatting away the idea. “It’s okay. I understand. You needed to think before telling me. We could have spent more time together if you told me earlier though.” He looks guilty for a moment but you flash him a smile, showing him you completely understand. He sighs.

“I-” _kind of don’t want to leave. Don’t want to leave you, again._ “You wanna come with? I’ll pay for your ticket. You can stay at my place and we’ll hang out after training. I can show you around my second home.”

You look at him, incredulous. He looks back. He seemed serious. The first time he asked you to come with him was in high school. He had asked both you and Hajime to come with him, but the three of you ended up playing it off as a joke, like it was just some high school friend group ambition. The other times were just casual _‘I wish you were_ _here'_ messages. You guys used to joke about living together in Argentina, but this sounded like a huge deal to him.

“You know I can’t do that. I can’t leech off of you. Plus, my final recital is in four months, so as much as I want to, I really can’t.”

He sighs and lies down again, placing his hands on his belly. “Alright.”

You observe him in his quiet and defeated state. It was definitely serious. “Hey. They’ll show you on TV right? It’s the Olympics. I can watch you play from here.”

“We both know it’s different.” You slump over, shoulders slowly sliding down until your arms and face are pressed against the bed again. You muffle out a quiet ‘yeah’.

The both of you listen to the hum of the air conditioning silently. The sound of your finger tracing patterns on the sheets and Tooru’s hands tapping beats on his abdomen going along with it. The sound of tapping starts to fade and you think your best friend has fallen asleep.

“I wanna try something out,” he abruptly stands up and you move your head to look at what he’s doing, eyes following each of his movements. He moves to your shelves where your bluetooth speaker was sat and connects his phone. He starts playing a tune that’s all too familiar to you.

He walks toward the bed barefoot and grabs your hand, and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Come on. It’s not like you can do this some other time. You’re always the one playing. Now there’s someone else.” 

“- _something_ else.” 

“Whatever. Just- this once? With me?” 

“Fine.” You get up from the bed and he leads you to the space in your room that’s not occupied by his mattress. His hands fall to your waist making you rest yours on his chest, and you start swaying to the slow rhythm of the song. He kicks away the mattress at some point to give the both of you more dance space. You try your best not to look up knowing the close proximity would be too much for you and you end up resting your head on his chest. Your breathing starts to sync with his as the piece continues to play.

“This feels,” you struggle to find the appropriate word, “nice.”

“Just nice?”

“Yeah. Can’t find a more accurate term.” Your hands leave his chest as your arms wrap around his waist, and you sigh in contentment. “I like it here.” You lean your head even closer to his chest, and you hope he doesn’t feel your ears start to heat up. 

The both of you sway in silence when he chuckles, “This isn’t even the proper way to do it.”

You hum, your eyes closed. “I don’t care.”

His arms wrap around your waist, replacing the hands that were holding them and pulling you closer. “I wanna stay like this- ” _forever_ , “ -for a long time.”

Tooru frowns when you pull back and stare at his face. You laugh and flick his forehead. “Sap. Just say you’ll miss me.”

“I will.” You stare at each other for a moment. The music is slightly muted by the sudden sync of your heartbeats when your eyes meet.

“Shut up,” you go to lean your head on his chest again as you continue to sway together.

“You told me to say it.”

You press your face against his chest. “Stop.” It comes out muffled.

“I’ll miss you.” You turn your face so it’s just your cheek pressed against his chest.

“You’re acting like you’re not used to leaving.”

“I’m not,” his voice is soft, as if he was afraid if he spoke in a higher decibel he’d break the glass-like atmosphere.

“Stop,” your voice quickly fades as you try to hold back a sob.

“Are you crying?” His arms tighten around your waist. 

“No. Never for you.”

“Okay.”

It’s quiet between you two again, just the sound of the first piece you ever learned playing in the background. It was a basic pop song from years ago, but it’s what inspired you to properly learn the piano. Tooru was always there to watch you put it together, and he was your first audience, even though your first concert was a bit tone-deaf and off-beat. Ever since that dumb concert (the day he got in trouble for picking the neighbor’s flowers to give you a bouquet), he’s always supported you in any way he can, despite the distance.

“I’ll miss you. I always do,” you whisper it so quietly it could come off as a light blow from the air conditioning system. Tooru still hears it and he cages you in a tight embrace, his chin resting on top of your head.

“Me too.”

“Shut up, Oikawa.”

“What happened to Tooru?”

“He’s being annoying.”

The two of you sway for a couple more minutes, the bluetooth speaker now playing a different song. He puts a hand over your head and holds you to his chest as he feels it start to get heavy.

“Tired?”

You hum, not wanting to do anything else besides fall asleep in the current position you both are in.

“That’s because you cried so much tonight.”

“Literally shut up,” but it comes out drowsy. You really need to go to bed. He lets out a soft chuckle, your head slightly shaking alongside his chest. He starts walking the both of you to your bed and sits you there.

“Don’t lie down yet. I’ll get you some water, okay?” You hum again and he quickly leaves your room. Your shoulders slouch as you struggle to keep sitting up like he requested.

“Here.” You take the glass from him and start chugging, a hum of thanks resonating from your throat. You swallow the last bit of water and he takes the glass to put it on the shelf at a distance from the bluetooth speaker, too lazy to walk out to the kitchen and place it on the sink. He walks towards his mattress and crouches to lie down when you grab his arm.

“Can you sleep beside me tonight?” He looks at you as a blush starts forming on his face. He’s glad you’re too sleepy to actually lift your head to look at him while you make that request.

“Sure. Let me just.. use the bathroom for a bit.” You nod and move to lie down on the bed, pressing your side to the wall to make space for the guy. You close your eyes, they feel heavy and swollen.

Tooru comes back into the room to see your resting figure. He quietly shuts the door, takes the extra pillow and blanket you gave him, and puts them on the side of the bed you reserved for him. He tries to climb in and find a comfortable position as quietly as possible. He turns to observe your face when your eyes start to flutter open. He panics for a bit but forces himself to calm down.

“ _That_ tired?”

“No. I was just thinking with my eyes closed.”

He turns to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling, “What about?”

“I’m leaving after the recital.” He turns his head to look at you.

“Huh?” This time it’s your turn to lie on your back and stare at the ceiling.

“I’ll save money. With what I have left of that travel fund and a few more days working part time, I can afford to go to you.”

“What are you talking about?” He turns so his whole body is facing you.

“I’m saying,” You turn to properly face him as well, your faces way too close than they should be. “I want to watch you play.”

“Really?” It’s a hushed whisper, quiet and soft compared to how loud and bright his eyes lit up after hearing what you just said.

“Yeah,” your whisper is even softer, and he smiles.

“Then all that crying was pretty useless, wasn’t it?” You frown and turn your back to him, opting to face the plain, cold wall behind you.

“Shut up.”

* * *

The next morning the both of you wake up in tangled limbs, bodies too lazy to actually do anything about it. Slowly, the space between the both of you gets smaller as the bedspace surrounding you gets bigger.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for any errors :( maybe i'll make a playlist to make up for it


	3. afterparty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise, a familiar face, and slight jealousy at a party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a warning for mentions of drinking pls enjoy <3

You step down the stage heaving a sigh of what feels like relief and head straight to a familiar face you had your eyes on ever since before the concert started. Although this was what was supposed to be your last and final recital as a music student, it felt more like a concert. You’ve performed so many of these in your still progressing lifetime and you consider this as one of the major milestones of your music career. You walk with a slight bounce to the boy you made a direct beeline to as everybody started to disperse to tend to their own activities. He gives you an elegant bouquet with a big smile on his face and you can’t help but mirror his expression while gratefully accepting his gift. He tells you to pose for a few photos and extends his arm to take a couple selfies with you too.

“You’re finally done with us, huh?” He flashes you a grin, eyes holding a slight glint of sadness when he pulls away from the half hug you shared.

“Hey. Don’t get all emotional on me now.” The hand that remained on his shoulder squeezed lightly in an attempt to comfort him. “It’s not very punk of you.” It moves higher to tug on the ring that sits on his helix and he slaps it away with a joking grunt.

“Semi!” The both of you look towards a girl trying to hop her way to your direction, eventually crouching down to put on her right shoe properly and jumping to the boy when her foot is finally situated comfortably. “Sorry it took long,” you scold her for choosing to change at the venue when she could have just changed at home, where the rooms aren’t full. She grimaces, explaining that riding in a car with a dress on is just too uncomfortable, and pulls the strap of the bag holding her instrument tight on her shoulder. Semi immediately takes the bag from her and slides his arm through the strap.

“Why did you choose to play the cello? This shit is heavy. This is why you never grew past your seventh grade height.”

“Did you come to my recital to support me or bully me? I bet it’s the latter. And Y/N gets flowers?” Yuki rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.

Semi lightly pushes her forehead with his index finger as he explains that her flowers are in the car. He says he only brought the ones he got for you since you won’t be riding with them to the afterparty.

“I can’t believe you won’t go straight to the party. Why do you have to do your shit at your house?”

“I have to make sure of a couple things first so I won’t forget anything when I leave for my flight. Then I could have fun at the party without worrying about anything.” She dismisses your explanation and turns her head to look at something to your right.

“Cute guy somewhere to your right. He’s been looking over here for a few minutes now. You think he’s staring at you or me?” You turn, snorting at Semi’s remark that the mysterious guy could have been checking him out. You squint your eyes trying to make out the guy’s features and he turns his head away. The hand rising to rub the back of his neck awkwardly made you gasp, your jaw slightly falling as you started walking towards him.  _ No fucking way _ .

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to watch you play! I’m also here to pick you up.” He spares a quick glance at the bouquet being cradled in your arms, grip tightening on the one he’s holding. The slight motion and ruffle of the wrapper catching your eye.

“ _ Real _ , proper flowers that you didn’t steal from the neighbors? Tooru, you didn’t have to.” You coo, taking the bouquet from him and hugging it close to your chest, he breathes out a chuckle. “You’re dumb.” He stares at you, eyes slightly widening. “Thank you, for coming all the way here to watch. It means a lot.”

“Anything for you.”

“Who’s this?” Yuki comes up from behind you and peers at Tooru, the guy looking back at her with a smile.

“Ah. Yuki, this is Tooru Oikawa. You guys met at that one party a few months ago.”

“Oh! Y/N’s date!” 

“- _ plus one. _ ”

Tooru holds out a hand to her. “Nice to meet you, again.”

“She’s kind of bad at recognizing faces.” You mention, shoulders moving to motion towards her for emphasis. She bows and mumbles out an apology and Tooru assures her that it’s okay. “She also wanted to know if you were staring at me or her a while ago.”

“Hey!”

“What? He’s used to having people crush on him, happened a lot in high school and it probably still does now.” Yuki pouts as a blush starts forming on her cheeks and Tooru chuckles. He apologizes this time.

“Sorry, but I’m afraid that if you do have a crush on me you’ll have to get over that. I already have a crush on someone else.” He offers a slight smile and Yuki waves a hand around nonchalantly. He tries to be subtle with it but the way he sneaks a glance at you doesn’t go unnoticed by her.

You turn to him, looking funny as you do so with two bouquets occupying both of your arms. “You do? Since when?”

Yuki randomly makes a remark about how dumb you are and you raise your eyebrows at her. She looks at Tooru and gives him a look of pity, to which he just returns a sheepish smile. She turns away and towards a voice that’s calling for her.

“I’m gonna get going.” She turns toward you. “I’ll see you at the party, okay?” She turns to offer Tooru a kind smile and faces you again. “Bring Oikawa-san with you.” She runs away to Semi who gives you a final wave, and their figures get smaller as they leave the place.

“Party?” Tooru asks. You explain to him that Yuki’s throwing one in celebration of your final recital, and partly your leave too. You say that it’s not much of a party and more like a small gathering with a lot of drinks. “I thought you were leaving right after the recital?”

“I decided to book a flight the next day. Kind of expected they’d want to have a party after the recital. It’s in a few hours, actually. You already booked a flight back?”

“No. I wanted to surprise you so I never asked for flight details. I was planning to get a ticket when I got here.”

“Cool! You can book it on the way to the party then. Let’s head back to my place first. I’ll leave my stuff there and make sure I’m all set for the flight.”

* * *

The boy from the recital was at the party too, much to Tooru’s dismay. It makes him move a little closer to you as you venture deeper into the party.  _ Gathering, my ass _ , he thinks,  _ this is a full blown party _ . He looks around the place as the strangers, some who look familiar, dance, converse, drink, and generally just have a good time. He sharply turns his head when he hears you squeal. He glares at the arms wrapped around your figure. The glare slowly trails up the arms and to the person holding you. He stands behind you just watching the interaction happen in front of his eyes. You’re immersed in the conversation for a few minutes when you realize you had just left your best friend standing alone behind you. You turn around to start introducing the two boys to each other when the one you had just been talking to suddenly gasps and pulls you to his chest, protective.

“What are your intentions with  _ my _ Y/N?” Words slurred as his body uses yours to keep himself in balance.

“ _ Your _ Y/N?” Tooru raises an eyebrow and looks at you, and you just wave it off, explaining to him that this usually happens when your friend is drunk. He continues to look at the boy, eyes observant and.. something else. This time you raise an eyebrow at him, doing what you can in your restrained state to tap his arm to put him out of his trance.

“You don’t recognize him?”

“Am I supposed to?” He tried to say it lightly but it sounded otherwise.

“I’d expect you to, since you used to play against him in highschool.”

He looks taken aback, mumbling a single syllable in confusion as he goes back to observing the guy who goes to put even more of his body weight on you. “Come drink with me. You’re gonna be leaving in a few hours and this is gonna be the last time we’re drinking together.” It’s a whine, an annoying one, Tooru thinks.

“You’re drunk.”

“Oh?” Semi’s squinted eyes, heavy from the booze, grow a size wider. “How’d you know that?”

“You always get clingy when you are.” He pouts. “If you want me to drink with you you can grab me four shots of whatever you can find. Get some for yourself too.”

He gives you a big grin, “Okay!” He leaves the scene after flashing you a thumbs up.

You turn to look at Tooru, and he’s still staring at Semi’s retreating figure. “Still nothing?”

“Well, he does seem familiar.” You see his brain working but still to no avail. You sigh and try to help him out.

“Try to imagine him in a purple jersey.” An imaginary lightbulb appears on top of his head, and he looks at you in surprise. He moves closer to you, “that’s him? He looked like such an ass before, like he didn’t have any friends. Kind of reminded me of Tobio actually.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t that bad in high school, you guys just weren’t that close for him to act like that whenever you were around.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyways, why is he here?”

“Yuki’s cousin. She invited me to some gig two years ago and I met him there. He’s in a band. I always see him at recitals and Yuki and I occasionally go to watch his band play. He also throws a lot of parties. I see him around a lot so I guess we’re pretty close too.”

“Is that why he gave you that pretty bouquet a while ago too?” The sudden question makes your face heat up. “Are you blushing right now?”

“He always gives me flowers after recitals. He says it’s in support of me.”

“Never for his cousin though?”

“They both find it awkward.” He hums in acknowledgment. “He got her flowers for this one though, just left it in the car.”

“So you like him?” He holds an intense glare on you.

“Huh? Why would you think so?”

“You blushed a while ago. You get flowers from him. You watch him play. You go to his parties. The list goes on, Y/N.” Your name on his lips felt heavy.

“First of all, I didn’t blush.” He raises an eyebrow and you hit his shoulder softly. “Second of all, the flowers are tradition. Why would I like someone just because they gave me flowers? Third, what do watching him play and going to his parties have to do with me liking him?” He stares at you even more.

“He’s a musician, like you. Isn’t that something you have in common? Having something in common with someone makes you like them.” You raise an eyebrow at him again. “And you never go to parties. It seems like you’ve been to a lot of his.”

“Yeah, that has nothing to do with me liking him, if I ever did. My friendship with Yuki makes him treat me like one of his younger cousins too, even though I’m much older than him.”

Suddenly, Semi’s back to your side yelling something about shots. You thank him and take the ones he got for you and give two of them to Tooru. “Here. Limit’s five. We have a flight to catch.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading cries i hope u guys enjoyed this one im really bad at notes but i appreciate u guys reading this i really do


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